


deck the halls

by breidaia



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2015-2016 NHL Season, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23105158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breidaia/pseuds/breidaia
Summary: The rookies decide to set up Sid and Claude. (They’re a little late.)
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Claude Giroux
Comments: 4
Kudos: 108





	deck the halls

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a long time since I’ve written these two, but I found this in a folder of half-finished fics and couldn’t resist finishing it.

The day the Flyers come to town, Sid notices the mistletoe. Truth be told, it would be kind of hard to miss: it hangs in practically every corner of Consol. It’s in the halls. It’s outside the locker rooms. He wouldn’t be surprised, after a few minutes of studious searching, if he were to find it in the _broom closets_.

The rookies are up to something; Sid can feel it in his bones. He’d seen Pooh and Rusty skulking in corners yesterday, falling silent whenever anyone drew too close, and he’s willing to bet just about anything that they’re somehow responsible for this.

Sid knows he could put a stop to it with just a few well-placed words, but, well, as his eyes catch on a sprig tucked creatively into the glass of the announcer’s booth, he can feel plans begin unfolding in his mind.

“I’ll have a word if I catch them putting it in the rafters,” he tells himself firmly. It could end up being a hazard if mistletoe happened to fall to the ice at the wrong moment, after all. But otherwise, Sid entirely intends to use this all to his advantage later tonight.

And if anyone asks why he’s letting this go on, Sid figures he’ll just give them a deadpan stare and say something about team bonding exercises.

\---

He comes across the culprits rather suddenly some few minutes later.

“No, I’m dead serious,” he can hear Pouliot whispering to someone around the corner, and Sid comes to an abrupt stop so as not to reveal himself. “The sexual tension between them is _mad_ and I’m pretty sure they’re both miserable about it. We’ve got to do something.”

“Why do we care about Giroux’s sexual tension?” Rusty’s voice demands, and Sid almost chokes trying not to laugh.

“We don’t, we care about _Sid’s_…uh, we care about _Sid_. If he’s miserable, how’s he going to _play_?”

Rusty’s voice is almost stricken when he speaks again. “Oh my God, Pooh. We’ve got to do something.”

Pouliot’s voice is firm. “It’s up to us. The honour of the team rides and dies on our shoulders, Rusty.” A pause, and then Sid is a bit gratified to hear, “also, you know, we don’t want Sid to be miserable.”

“For Sid,” Rusty says determinedly. “And the team.”

“For Sid and the team,” Pouliot agrees, and when Sid peeks carefully around the corner, he can see them gravely shaking hands.

\---

The next night, long after the game is done and everyone else has taken off for food or drinks or bed, Sid laughs as he lets Claude pull him into an empty changing room. Sid glances up and sure enough, there’s a sprig of mistletoe nestled just above the door jam.

Claude follows his gaze and shakes his head. “The lengths you’ll go to to get me to kiss you, Crosby,” he says mournfully. “How far the mighty fall.”

Sid curls one hand around Claude’s neck as the other slips beneath his shirt, just so he can feel the warmth of bare skin. “I bet you I can kiss you under every one,” he says against Claude’s lips.

Claude huffs an indignant laugh. “Why would I take that bet?” Claude angles his head so that his lips catch against Sid’s just for a moment, and Sid’s breath seizes temporarily in his throat. One day, they’ll tell their families and their friends and the team and the _world_. But for right now, he like having this all to himself.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Sid wants to know. He moves the hand on Claude’s neck so that his fingers can curl up into Claude’s curls, still slightly damp from showering. 

“For one,” Claude says, and this time his lips graze the corner of Sid’s mouth, “this is your territory and you know every nook and cranny. And second,” he smiles, “that’s not exactly a bet I want you to lose, considering how much of the stuff I saw out there.”

Sid moves his hand more fully into Claude’s hair, pressing against the back of his skull, and their lips come together properly for the first time in weeks. When he pulls back, he gives his best smirk. “Then you win either way. Besides, I’d think you’d want to motivate me.”

“Huh,” Claude says and pulls back just enough that Sid can properly see his face. “You’re on.”


End file.
